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CAXTON and DANIEL 



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•SELECTIONS 



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English Classic Series. 

KEIXOGG'S EDITIONS. 

Shakespeare's Plays. 

JBacb'flMaE in ©ne Volume. 

Text Carefully Expurgated for Use in Mixed Classes. 

With Portrait, Notes, Introduction to Shakespeare's Grammar, Exam- 
ination Papers and Plan of Study. 

(SELECTED.) 

By BRAINERD KELLOGG, LL D 

an/one of th e B £t\% ^^^%^^£Z^}^S^^ n 

En IEo^^ emineDt 

The following Plays, each in one volume, are now ready : 

As You Like It 



Merchant of Venice. 
Julius Caesar, 
Macbeth. 
Tempest. 
Hamlet. 



King Henry V. 

King Lear. 

Othello. 

King Henry IV., Part I. 

King Henry VIII. 



King Richard III. 

A Midsummer-Night's Dream, 



A Winter's Tale 
, Twelfth Night. 
Mailing price, 30 cents per copy. Special Price to Teachers 

Historical Classic Readings. 

With Introductions and Explanatory Notes. 

For Classes in History, Beading, and Literature. 

The following numbers, uniform in style and size, are now ready: 

Discovery of America. Washington 
Irving. 

2. Settlement of Virginia. Capt. John 

OMITH. 

3. History of Plymouth Plantation. Gov. 

William Bradford. 

4. King Philip's War, and Witchcraft in 

New England. Gov. Thomas 
Hutchinson. 
Discovery and Exploration of the Mis- 

From SO to 6* gages each Price, 12 cents per copy; $1.20 ver 
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Other Numbers in Preparation. 

Full Descriptive Catalogue sent on application. 



sissippi Valley. John Gilmary 

DHEA. 

6. Champlain and his Associates. Fran- 
cis Parkman. 

7. Brad dock's Defeat. Francis Park- 

MAN. 

8. First Battles of the Revolution. Ed- 
ward Everett. 

9. Colonial Pioneers. James Parton. 
10. Heroes of the Revolution. James 

Parton 



ENGLISH CLASSIC SERIES.— No. 99. 



Caxton and Daniel 



Selections. 



Being Extracts from Caxton's Prefaces, and 
Daniel's Musophilus. 






OTttij SntrolructCon anti Hvplanatorn Notes 
By J. Scott Clark, 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH CRITICISM, SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY. 



1AR 19 189: 



i 



NEW YORK : 

Effingham Maynard & Co., Publishers, 

771 Broadway and 67 & 69 Ninth Street. 

New Series, No. 9. February ), 1S92. Published Seini-weekly. Subscription Price, $]t; 
Entered at Post OflBce, New York, as Second-class Matter. 



; 'T 



A Complete Course in the Study of English. 



Spelling, Language, Grammar, Composition, Literature. 



Reed's Word Lessons-A Complete Speller. 
Reed's Introductory Language Work. 

Reed & Kellogcs Graded Lessons in English. 
Reed & Kellogcs Higher Lessons in English. 

Reed & Kellogg's One-Book Course in English. 
Kellogcs Text-Book on Rhetoric. 

Kellogcs Text-Book on English Literature. 



In the preparation of this series the authors have had one object 
clearly in view — to so develop the study of the English language as 
to present a complete, progressive course, from the Spelling-Book to 
the study of English Literature. The troublesome contradictions 
which arise in using books arranged by different authors on these 
subjects, and which require much time for explanation in the school- 
room, will be avoided by the use of the above "Complete Course." 

Teachers are earnestly invited to examine these books. 

EFFINGHAM MAYNARD & Co., Publishers, 

77 1 Broadway, New York. 



Copyright, 1892, 
By EFFINGHAM MAYNARD & CO. 






CAXTON'S PREFACES. 



WILLIAM CAXTON, 

1412(?)-1491(?). 

The dates assigned for Caxton's birth vary from 1412 to 1422. 
We know from his own statement that he was born in " the Weald 
of Kent. " He seems to have been the son of a farmer. In 1439 he 
was apprenticed to a wealthy London mercer. At the death of 
the latter, in 1841, Caxton went to Bruges, apparently as the 
traveling agent or factor of the Company of Mercers of London. 
In 14G2 or 1463 he seems to have become governor of a chartered 
association of English adventurers trading to foreign parts. On 
the marriage of Edward IV. 's sister, Margaret, to Charles, Duke 
of Burgundy, in 1468 or a little later, Caxton entered the service 
of the Duchess, probably as her business agent. Bruges, then the 
Duke's capital, was a center of literary as well as commercial 
activity. Book-collecting and book-making were then highly in 
fashion at the Duke's court, and Caxton, who seems to have 
caught the contagion, began by translating into English a worth- 
less version of the history of Troy, written by a royal chaplain, 
one Le Fevre. Meantime Caxton seems to have learned the. art of 
printing from one Colard Mansion, then a well-known printer of 
Bruges. Accordingly, Caxton put through the press in 1474 the 
first book printed in the English language under the title "The 
Recuyell of the Histories of Troye." Caxton seems to have 
printed several other books during his residence in Bruges, notably 
his " Game and Play of the Chesse." There has been much dis- 
pute as to the exact date of his return to England and of his first 
printing there, but we have his own statement that his book " The 
Dictes and Sayinges of Philosophies " was printed in England in 
1477 ; for upon the title page of this book we read : " Emprynted 

3 



4 CAXTON S PREFACES. 

by me William Caxton, at Westminster, the yere of our Lord 
MGCCCLXXVII." His press seems to have been situated " at the 
sign of '-he Red Pale in the Almonry at Westminster." At least, 
it was somewhere beneath the roof of the great abbey that the first 
book was printed in England. Caxton printed at least sixty-four 
books, of which thirty-eight survive in whole or in part. Many 
of these books were translations made by Caxton himself. His 
own compositions are confined mostly to prefaces and introduc- 
tions. He died about 1491. The most prominent traits of 
Caxton's character as apparent in his writings are : — (1) frank 
simplicity, often taking the form of a personal confession to his 
reader ; (2) fervent piety and faith in God ; (3) a high sense of 
honor in both literary and economical affairs : (4) grave, sly 
humor. 



caxton's prefaces. 



Extracts from Caxton's Prefaces. 

When I remember that every man is bounden by the com- 
mandment and counsel of the wise man to eschew sloth and 
idleness, which is mother and nurse of vices, and ought to put 
myself unto virtuous occupation and business, then I, having 
no great charge or occupation, following the said counsel, took 
a French book and read therein many strange marvellous his- 
tories, wherein I had great pleasure and delight, as well for 
the novelty of the same, as for the fair language of the French, 
which was in prose so well and compendiously set and written, 
methought I understood the sentence and substance of every 
matter. And for so much as this book was new and late made 
and drawn into French, and never had seen it in our English 
tongue, I thought in myself it should be a good business to 
translate it into our English, to the end that it might be had 
as well in the royaume of England as in other lands, and also 
for to pass therewith the time, and thus concluded in myself 
to begin this said work, and forthwith took pen and ink and 
began boldly to run forth, as blind Bayard, in this present 
work. . . . When all these things [his " simpleness and unper- 
fectness " in the French and English languages] came before 
me after that I had made and written five or six quires, I fell 
in despair of this work and purposed no more to have con- 
tinued therein, and the quires laid apart ; and in two years 
after laboured no more at this work, and was fully in will to 
have left it. Till on a time it fortuned that the right high, 
excellent, and right virtuous princess, my right redoubted 
lady, my lady Margaret, . . . sent for me to speak with her 
good grace of divers matters, among the which I let her high- 
ness have knowledge of the aforesaid beginning of this work ; 
which anon commanded me to show the said five or six quires 
to her said grace. And when she had seen them, anon she 



6 CAXTON S PREFACES. 

found defaute [fault] in the English, which she commanded 
me to amend, and moreover commanded me straightly to con- 
tinue and make an end of the residue then not translated. 
Whose dreadful commandment I durst in no wise disobey, 
because I am a servant unto her said grace, and receive of her 
yearly fee, and many other good and great benefits, and also 
hope many more to receive of her highness ; but forthwith 
went and laboured in the said translation after my simple and 
poor cunning, all so nigh as I can following mine author, 
meekly beseeching the bounteous highness of my said lady, 
that of her benevolence list to accept and take in gree [take 
kindly] this simple and rude work. . . . And forasmuch as I 
suppose the said two books be not had before this time in our 
English language, therefore I had the better will to accomplish 
the said work ; which work was begun in Bruges and con- 
tinued in Gaunt [Ghent], and finished in Cologne, in time of 
the troublous world, and of the great divisions being and 
reigning as well in the royaumes of England and France as in 
all other places universally through the world, that is to wit, 
the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and seventy- 
one. . . . Because that I have now good leisure, being in 
Cologne, and having none other thing to do at this time in 
eschewing of idleness, mother of all vices, I have deliberated 
in myself of the contemplation of my said redoubted lady, to 
take this labor in hand. . . . Thus end I this [the third] book, 
which I have translated after mine author, as nigh as God 
hath given me cunning, to whom be given laud and praises. 
An for as much as in the writing of the same my pen is worn, 
mine hand weary and not stedfast, mine eyen dimmed with 
overmuch looking on the white paper, and my courage not so 
prone and ready to labour as it hath been, and that age creep- 
eth on me daily and feebleth all the body ; and also because I 
have promised to divers gentlemen and to my Mends to ad- 
dress them as hastily as I might this said book, therefore I 
have practiced and learned at my great charge and dispense 
[expense], to ordain this said book in print, after the manner 
and form as you may here see ; and is not written with pen 



and ink as other books are, to the end that every man may 
have them at once. For all the books of this story, named the 
" Reeuyell of the Historyes of Troye," thus imprinted as ye 
here see, were begun in one day, and also finished in one day. 
Which book I presented to my said redoubted lady as afore is 
said, and she hath well accepted it and largely rewarded me. 
— To the Reeuyell. 

I have emprised and concluded in myself to reduce this said 
book into our English, as all along and plainly ye may read, 
hear, and see in this book here following. Beseeching all 
them that find fault in the same to correct and amend it, and 
also to pardon me of the rude and simple reducing. And 
though there be no gay terms, nor subtle, nor new eloquence, 
yet I hope that it shall be understood, and to that intent I 
have specially reduced it after the simple cunning that God 
hath lent me, whereof I humbly and with all my heart thank 
Him, and also am bounden to pray for my father's and 
mother's souls, that in my youth set me to school, by which, 
by the sufferance of God, I get my living I hope truly. And 
that I may do so and continue, I beseech Him to grant me of 
his grace ; and so to labor and occupy myself virtuously, that 
I may come out of debt and deadly sin, that after this life I 
may come to His bliss in heaven. — To the Life of Charles the 
Great, 1485. 

Unto the noble, ancient, and renowned city, the city of 
London in England, I, William Caxton, citizen and con jury 
[sworn fellow] of the same and of the fraternity and fellowship 
of the Mercery, owe of right my service and good will ; and 
of very duty am bounden naturally to assist, aid, and counsel, 
as farforth as I can to my power, as to my mother of whom I 
have received my nurture and living ; and shall pray for the 
good prosperity and policy of the same during my life. For 
as me seemeth it is of great need, by cause I have known it in 
my young age much more wealthy, prosperous, and richer 
than it is at this day ; and the cause is that there is almost 



8 

none that intendeth to the common weal, but only every man 
for his singular profit. — To the Book called " Catlion," 1483. 

Some gentlemen late blamed me, sayiug that in my trans- 
lations I had over-curious terms which could not be under- 
stood of common people, and desired me to use old and homely 
terms in my translations. And fain would I satisfy every man; 
and so to do, took an old book and read therein ; and certainly 
the English was so rude and broad that I could not well under- 
stand it. And also my Lord Abbot of Westminster did show 
to me late certain evidences written in old English, for to 
reduce it into our English now used, and certainly it was 
written in such wise that it was more like to Dutch than 
English ; I could not reduce nor bring it to be understood. 
And certainly our language now used varieth far from that 
which was used and spoken when I was born : for we English- 
men be born under the denomination of the moon, which is 
never steadfast, but ever wavering, waxing one season, and 
waneth and decreaseth another season ; and that common 
English that is spoken in one shire varieth from another. In- 
somuch that in my days happened that certain merchants were 
in a ship in Thames for to have sailed over the sea into 
Zealand, and for lack of wind they tarried at Foreland, and 
went to land for to refresh them ; and one of them named 
Sheffelde, a mercer, came into an house and asked for meat, 
and especially he asked for eggs ; and the good wife answered 
that she could speak no French ; and the merchant was angry, 
for he also could speak no French, but would have had eggs ; 
but she understood him not. And then at last another said 
that he would have eyren ; then the good wife said that she 
understood him well. Lo, what should a man in these days 
now write, eggs or eyren ? Certainly it is hard to please every 
man, by cause of diversity and change of language. For in these 
days every man that is in any reputation in his country will 
utter his communication and matters in such manners and 
terms that few men shall understand them. And some honest 
and good clerks [scholars] have been with me, and desired me 



to write the most curious terms that I could find. And thus 
between plain, rude, and curious, I stand abashed ; but in my 
judgment the common terms that be daily used be lighter 
[easier] to be understood than the old and ancient English. — 
To a Book Printed in 1490. 

Great thanks, laud, and honour ought to be given to the 
clerks, poets, and historiographs that have written many noble 
books of wisdom of the lives, passions, and miracles of holy 
saints,of historiesof noble and famous acts and faits [deeds], and 
of the chronicles sith the beginning of the creation of the world 
unto this present time ; by which we are daily informed and 
have knowledge of many things, of whom we should not have 
known if they had not left to us their monuments written. 
Amongst whom, and in especial before all other, we ought to 
gave a singular laud unto that noble and great philosopher, 
Geoffrey Chaucer, the which, for his ornate writing in our 
tongue, may well have the name of a laureat poet. For before 
that he, by his labour, embellished, ornated, and made fair 
our English, in this royaume [kingdom] was had rude speech 
and incongrue [incongruous], as yet it appeareth by old books, 
which at this day ought not to have place nor be compared 
among, nor to his beauteous volumes and ornate writings, of 
whom he made many books and treatises of many a noble his- 
tory, as well in metre as in rhyme and prose ; and them so 
craftily made, that he comprehended his matters in short, 
quick, and high sentences. ; eschewing prolixity, casting away 
the chaff of superfluity, and shewing the picked grain of sen- 
tence, uttered by crafty and sugared eloquence. ... Of which 
book [" The Canterbury Tales"] so incorrect was one brought 
to me six years passed, which I supposed had been very true 
and correct, and according to the same I did imprint a certain 
number of them, which anon were sold to many and divers 
gentlemen : of whom one gentleman came to me and said that 
this book was not according in many places unto the book that 
Geoffrey Chaucer had made. To whom I answered that I had 
made it according to my copy, and by me was nothing added 



10 caxton's prefaces. 

nor diminished. Then he said he knew a book which his 
father had and much loved, that was very true and according 
unto his own first book by him made ; and said more, if I 
would imprint it again he would get me the same book for a 
copy. How be it, he wist well his father would not gladly part 
from it ; to whom I said in case he could get me such a book 
true and correct, that I would once endeavor me to imprint it 
again, for to satisfy the author : whereas before by ignorance 
I erred in hurting and defaming his book in divers places, in 
setting in some things that he never said nor made, and leaving 
out many things that he made which are requisite to be set in. 
And thus «we fell at accord ; and he full gently got me of his 
father the said book, and delivered it to me, by which I have 
corrected my book. — To his Second Edition of the Canterbury 
Tales. 

Which work [Chaucer's " Book of Fame "J as me seemeth, is 
craftily made, and worthy to be written and known : for he 
toucheth in it right great wisdom and subtle understanding ; 
and so in all his works he excelleth, in mine opinion, all other 
writers in our English ; for he writeth no void words, but all 
his matter is full of high and quick sentence, to whom ought 
to be given laud and praising for his noble making and writ- 
ing. For of him all other have borrowed sith, and taken in 
all their well saying and writing. — To Chaucer's Book of 
Fame. 

Oh, ye knights of England, where is the custom and usage 
of noble chivalry that was used in those days ? What do ye 
now but go to the baynes [baths] and play at dice ? And some, 
not well advised, use not honest and good rule against all order 
of knighthood. Leave this, leave it ! and read the noble 
volumes of St. Graal of Lancelot, of Galaad, of Trystram, 
of Perse Forest, of Percyval, of Gawayn, and many more : 
there shall ye see manhood, courtesy, and gentleness. And 
look in latter days of the noble acts sith the Conquest, as 
in King Richard days, Coeur de Lion, Edward I. and III. 



11 

and his noble sons, Sir Robert Knolles, Sir John Hawkwood, 
Sir John Chandos, Sir Gneltiare Manny. Read Froissart ; 
and also behold that victorious and noble King Harry V., 
and the captains under him, his noble brethren, the earls 
of Salisbury, Montague, and many other, whose names shine 
gloriously by their virtuous noblesse and acts that they did in 
the honour of the order of chivalry. Alas, what do ye but 
sleep and take ease, and are all disordered from chivalry ? 
****** 

How many knights be there now in England that have the 
use and exercise of a knight ? that is to wit, that he knoweth 
his horse and his horse him ; that is to say, he being ready at 
a point to have all thing that belongeth to a knight, an horse 
that is according and broken after his hand, his armour and 
harness suit, and so forth, et cetera. I suppose, an a due 
search should be made, there should be many founden that 
lack : the more pity is ! I would it pleased our sovereign 
Lord that twice or thrice a year, or at the least once, he would 
cry jousts of peace, to the end that every knight should have 
horse and harness, and also the use and craft of a knight, and 
also to tourney one against one, or two against two ; and 
the best to have a prize, a diamond or jewel, such as should 
please the prince. This should cause gentlemen to resort to 
the ancient customs of chivalry to great fame and renown: 
and also to be alway ready to serve their prince when he shall 
call them or have need. — To the Book of the Order of Chiv- 
alry. 

At such a time as he [Lord Rivers] had accomplished this 
said work, it liked him to send it to me in certain quires to 
oversee. . . . And so afterward I came unto my said lord, and 
told him how I had read and seen his book, and that he had 
done a meritorious deed in the labour of the translation there- 
of. .. . Then my said lord desired me to oversee it, and 
where as I should find fault to correct it, wherein I answered 
unto his lordship that I could not amend it. . . . Notwith- 
standing he willed me to oversee it. ... I find that my said 



12 caxton\s prefaces. 

lord hath left out certain and divers conclusions touching 
women. Whereof I marvelled that my said lord hath not 
writ on them, nor what hath moved him so to do, nor what 
cause he had at that time. But I suppose that some fair lady 
hath desired him to leave it out of his book ; or else he was 
amorous on some noble lady, for whose love he would not set 
it in his book ; or else for the very affection, love, and good 
will that he hath unto all ladies and gentlewomen, he thought 
that Socrates spared the sooth, and wrote of women more than 
truth ; which I cannot think that so true a man and so noble 
a philosopher as Socrates was, should write otherwise than 
truth. For if he had made fault in writing of women, he 
ought not or should not be believed in his other Dictes and 
Sayings. But I perceive that my said lord knoweth verily that 
such defaults be not had nor found in the women born and 
dwelling in these parts nor regions of the world. Socrates 
was a Greek, born in a far country from hence, which country 
is all of other conditions than this is, and men and women of 
other nature that they be here in this country ; for I wot- 
well, of whatsoever condition women be in Greece, the women 
of this country be right good, wise, pleasant, humble, dis- 
creet, sober, chaste, obedient to their husbands, true, secret, 
stedfast, ever busy, and never idle, attemporate in speaking, 
and virtuous in all their works ; or at least should be so. For 
which causes so evident, my said lord, as I suppose, thought 
it not of necessity to set in his book the sayings of his author 
Socrates touching women. — To the Dictes and Sayings of 
Philosophers. 

I have submysed [submitted] myself to translate into Eng- 
lish the "Legend of Saints," called " Legenda aurea" in 
Latin ; and William, Earl of Arundel, desired me — and 
promised to take a reasonable quantity of them — and sent me 
a worshipful gentleman, promising that my said lord should 
during my life give and grant to me a yearly fee, that is to 
note, a buck in summer and a doe in winter. — To Legends of 
Saints. 



CAXTOX'S PREFACES. 13 

Now then I will finish all these fables with this tale that 
folioweth, which a worshipful priest and a parson told me 
late : he said that there were dwelling at Oxenford two priests, 
both Masters of Arts — of whom that one was quick and could 
put himself forth ; and that other was a good simple priest. 
And so it happened that the master was pert and quick, and 
was anon promoted to a benefice or twain, and after to pre- 
bends, and for to be a dean of .a great prince's chapel, suppos- 
ing and weening that his fellow, the simple priest, should never 
be promoted, but be always an annual, or, at the most, a 
parish priest. So after a long time that this worshipful man, 
this dean, came running into a good parish with five or seven 
horses, like a prelate, and came into the church of said parish, 
and found there this good simple man, sometime his fellow, 
which came and welcomed him lowly. And that other bade 
him ' ' good morrow, Master John, " and took him slightly by 
the hand, and axed him where he dwelt. And the good man 
said, " In this parish." " How," said he, are ye here a sole 
priest, or a parish priest ?" " Nay, sir," said he, " for lack of 
a better, though I am not able nor worthy, I am parson and 
curate of this parish." And then that other vailed [lowered] 
his bonnet and said, "Master Parson, I pray you to be not 
displeased ; I had supposed ye had not been beneficed. " " But, 
master," said he, "I pray you what is this benefice worth to 
you a year?" "Forsooth," said the good simple man, "I 
wot never ; for I make never accompts thereof, how well I 
have had it four or five years." " And know ye not," said he, 
" what it is worth ?— it should seem a good benefice." " No, 
forsooth," said he, " but I wot well what it shall be worth to 
me." " Why," said he, " 'what shall it be worth ? " " For- 
sooth," said he, "if T do my true dealing in the cure of my 
parishes in preaching and teaching, and do my part belonging 
to my cure, I shall have heaven therefore. And if their souls 
be lost, or any of them, by my default, I shall be punished 
therefore. And hereof I am sure." And with that word the 
rich dean was abashed : and thought he should be the better, 
and take more heed to his cures and his benefices than he had 



14 

done. This was a good answer of a good priest and an honest. 
And. herewith I finish this book, translated and imprinted by 
me, William Caxton. — To the " Subtil Histories and Fables of 
Esqp." 

This book is not requisite nor eke convenient for every rude 
and simple man, which understandeth not of science nor 
cunning, and for such as have not heard of the noble policy 
and prudence of the Romans ; but for noble, wise, and great 
lords, gentlemen, and merchants, that have been and daily be 
occupied in matter touching the public weal : and in especial 
unto them that been passed their green age, and eke their 
middle age, called virility, and been approached unto senectute, 
called old and ancient age. Wherein they may see how to 
suffer and bear the same patiently; and what surety and 
virtue been in the same, and have also cause to be joyous and 
glad that they have escaped and passed the manifold perils 
and doubteous adventures that been in juvente and youth, 
as in this said book here following ye may more plainly see. 
— To Cicero' 1 9 Treafise on Old Age. 

Forasmuch as this present book is not for a rude uplandish 
man to labor therein, nor read it, but only for a clerk and a 
noble gentleman that feeleth and understandeth in faits of 
arms, in love, and in noble chivalry : therefore, in mean be- 
tween both I have reduced and translated this said book into 
our English, not over rude nor curious, but in such terms as 
shall be understanclen, by God's grace, according to my copy. 
— To the JEneid of Virgil. 

Which book I had long to fore sold to my said lady, and 
knew well that the story of it was honest and joyful to all 
virtuous young noble gentlemen and women, for to read 
therein as for their pastime. For under correction, in my 
judgment, histories of noble feats and valiant acts of arms and 
war, which have been achieved in old time of many noble 
princes, lords, and knights, are as well for to see and know their 



15 

valiantness for to stand in the special grace and love of their 
ladies, and in likewise for gentle young ladies and demoiselles 
for to learn to be stedfast and constant in their part to them 
that they once have promised and agreed to, such as have 
put their lives oft in jeopardy for to please them to stand in 
grace, as it is to occupy the ken and study overmuch in books 
of contemplation. — To the History of King Blanchardine and 
Queen Eglantine, his Wife. 

After that I had accomplished and finished divers histories, 
as well of contemplation as of other historial and worldly 
acts of great conquerors and princes, and also certain books 
of ensamples and doctrine, many noble and divers gentlemen 
of this realm of England came and demanded me many and 
ofttimes, wherefore that I have not do made and imprint the 
noble history of the Saint Greal, and of the most renowned 
Christian king, first and chief of the three best Christian, and 
worthy, King Arthur, which ought most to be remembered 
amongst us Englishmen tofore all other Christian kings ; for 
it is notoriously known through the universal world, that 
there be nine worthy and the Lest that ever were, that is to 
wit, three Paynims, three Jews, and three Christian men. As 
for Paynims, they were tofore the Incarnation of Christ, 
which were named, the first Hector of Troy, of whom the 
history is comen both in ballad and in prose, the second 
Alexander the Great, and the third Julius Caesar, Emperor of 
Rome, of whom the histories be well known and had. And as 
for the three Jews, which also were tofore the incarnation of 
our Lord, of whom the first was duke Joshua which brought 
the children of Israel into the land of behest, the second 
David King of Jerusalem, and the third Judas Machabeus. Of 
these three the Bible rehearseth all their noble histories and 
acts. And since the said incarnation have been three noble 
Christian men, stalled and admitted through the universal 
world into the number of the nine best and worthy. Of 
whom was first the noble Arthur, whose noble acts I purpose 
to write in this present book here following. The second was 



16 caxton's prefaces. 

Charlemain, or Charles the Great, of whom the history is had 
in many places, both in French and in English. And the 
third and last was Godfrey of Boloine, of whose acts and life 
I made a book unto the excellent prince and king of noble 
memory, King Edward the Fourth. The said noble gentlemen 
instantly required me to imprint the history of the said noble 
king and conqueror King Arthur, and of his knights, with the 
history of the Saint Greal, and of the death and ending of the 
said Arthur ; affirming that I ought rather to imprint his acts 
and noble feats, than of Godfrey of Boloine, or any of the 
other eight, considering that he was a man born within this 
realm, and king and emperor of the same ; and that there be 
in French divers and many noble volumes of his acts, and also 
of his knights. To whom I answered that divers men hold 
opinion that there was no such Arthur, and that all such books 
as been made of him, be but feigned and fables, because that 
some chronicles make of him no mention, nor remember him 
nothing, nor of his knights. "Whereto they answered, and 
one in special said, that in him that should say or think that 
there was never such a king called Arthur, might well be 
aretted great folly and blindness. For he said that there were 
many evidences of the contrary. First ye may see his sepul- 
chre in the monastery of Glastingbury. And also in Policron- 
icon, in the fifth book the sixth chapter, and in the seventh 
book the twenty-third chapter, where his body was buried, 
and after found, and translated into the said monastery. Ye 
shall see also in the history of Bochas in his book Be Cam 
Principum part of his noble acts, and also of his fall. Also 
Galfridus in his British book recounteth his life : and in di- 
vers places of England many remembrances be yet of him, 
and shall remain perpetually, and also of his knights. First 
in the abbey of Westminster, at St. Edward's shrine, remain- 
eth the print of his seal in red wax closed in beryl, in which 
is written, Patricius Arthurus BHtannie, Gallie, Germanie, 
Dacie, Imperator. Item in the castle of Dover ye may see 
Gawaine's scull, and Cradok's mantle ; at Winchester the 
Round Table : in other places Launcelot's sword and many 



17 

other things. Then all these things considered, there can no 
man reasonably gainsay but that there was a king of this land 
named Arthur. For in all places, Christian and heathen, he 
is reputed and taken for one of the nine worthy, and the first 
of the three Christian men. And also, he is more spoken of 
beyond the sea, more books made of his noble acts, than there 
be in England, as well in Dutch, Italian, Spanish, and Greek- 
ish, as in French. And yet of record remain in witness of 
him in Wales, in the. town of Camelot, the great stones and 
the marvellous works of iron lying under the ground, and 
royal vaults, which divers now living have seen. Wherefore 
it is a marvel why he is no more renowned in his own country, 
save only it accordeth to the Word of God, which saith that 
no man is accepted for a prophet in his own country. Then 
all these things aforesaid alleged, I could not well deny but 
that there was such a noble king named Arthur, and reputed 
one of the nine worthy, and first and chief of the Christian 
men. And many noble volumes be made of him and of his 
noble knights in French, which I have seen and read beyond 
the sea, which be not had in our maternal tongue. But in 
Welsh be many, and also in French, and some in English but 
no where nigh all. Wherefore, such as have late been drawn out 
briefly into English I have after the simple conning that God 
hath sent to me, under the favour and correction of all noble 
lords and gentlemen, enprised to imprint a book of the noble 
histories of the said King Arthur, and of certain of his knights, 
after a copy unto me delivered, which copy Sir Thomas Malorye 
did take out of certain books of French, and reduced it into 
English. And I, according to my copy, have down set it in 
print, to the intent that noble men may see and learn the 
noble acts of chivalry, the gentle and virtuous deeds that some 
knights used in those days, by which they came to honour, 
and how they that were vicious were punished and oft put to 
shame and rebuke ; humbly beseeching all noble lords and 
ladies, with all other estates of what estate or degree they 
been of, that shall see and read in this said book and work, that 
they take the good and honest acts in their remembrance, and 



18 caxton's prefaces. 

to follow the same. Wherein they shall find many joyous and 
pleasant histories, and noble and renowned acts of humanity, 
gentleness, and chivalry. For herein may be seen noble chiv- 
alry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friend- 
ship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin. Do after the 
good and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame 
and renommee. And for to pass the time this book shall be 
pleasant to read in, but for to give faith and belief that all is 
true that is contained herein, ye* be at your liberty : but all is 
written for our doctrine, and for to beware that we fall not 
to vice nor sin, but to exercise and follow virtue, by the which 
we may come and attain to good fame and renown in this life, 
and after this short and transitory life to come unto everlast- 
ing bliss in heaven ; the which He grant us that reigneth in 
heaven, the blessed Trinity. Amen. 

Then to proceed forth in this said book, the which I direct 
unto all noble princes, lords and ladies, gentlemen or gentle- 
women, that desire to read or hear read of the noble and joy- 
ous history of the great conqueror and excellent king, King 
Arthur, sometime king of this noble realm, then called Brit- 
ain ; I, William Caxton, simple person, present this book fol- 
lowing, which I have emprised to imprint : and treateth of the 
noble acts, feats of arms of chivalry, prowess, hardiness, hu- 
manity, love, courtesy, and very gentleness, with many won- 
derful histories and adventures. And for to understand 
briefly the content of this volume, I have divided it into XXI 
Books, and every book chaptered, as hereafter shall by God's 
grace follow. The First Book shall treat how Uther Pendra- 
gou gat the noble conqueror King Arthur, and containeth 
xxviii chapters. The Second Book treateth of Balin the noble 
knight, and containeth xix chapters. The Third Book treat- 
eth of the marriage of King Arthur to Queen Guenever, with 
other matters, and containeth xv chapters. The Fourth Book, 
how Merlin waa assotted, and of war made to King Arthur, 
and containeth xxix chapters. The Fifth Book treateth of 
the conquest of Lucius the emperor, and containeth xii chap- 
ters. The Sixth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel, 



in 

and marvelous adventures, and containeth xviii chapters. 
The Seventh Book treateth of a noble knight called Sir Gar- 
eth, and named by Sir Kay Beaumains, and containeth xxxvi 
chapters. The Eighth Book treateth of the birth of Sir Tris- 
tram the noble knight, and of his acts, and containeth xli 
chapters. The Ninth Book treateth of a knight named by Sir 
Kay Le Cote male taille, and also of Sir Tristram, and con- 
taineth xliv chapters. The Tenth Book treateth of Sir Tris- 
tram, and other marvelous adventures, and containeth 
lxxxviii chapters. The Eleventh Book treateth of Sir Laun- 
celot and Sir Galahad, and containeth xiv chapters. The 
Twelfth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and his madness, 
and containeth xiv chapters. The Thirteenth Book treat- 
eth how Galahad came first to King Arthur's court, and the 
quest how the Sangreal was begun, and containeth xx chap- 
ters. The Fourteenth Book treateth of the quest of the San- 
greal, and containeth x chapters. The Fifteenth Book 
treateth of Sir Launcelot, and containeth vi chapters. The 
Sixteenth Book treateth of Sir Bors and Sir Lionel his brother, 
and containeth xvii chapters. The Seventeenth Book treat- 
eth of the Sangreal, and containeth xxiii chapters. The 
Eighteenth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and the queen, 
and containeth xxv chapters. The Nineteenth Book treateth 
of Queen Guenever and Launcelot, and containeth xiii chap- 
ters. The Twentieth Book treateth of the piteous death of 
Arthur, and containeth xxii chapters. The Twenty-first Book 
treateth of his last departing, and how Sir Launcelot came to 
revenge his death, and containeth xiii chapters. The sum is 
twenty-one books, which contain the sum of five hundred and 
seven chapters, as more plainly shall follow hereafter. — To the 
Book of King Arthur, 



DANIEL. 
1562-1619. 

Samuel Daniel, the son of a music-master, was born near 
Taunton, in Somersetshire, in 1562. At seventeen he entered Mag- 
dalen College, Oxford, as a commoner, where he remained during 
the next three years, apparently supported by the Pembroke fam- 
ily. While at Oxford he gave himself principally to the study of 
history and poetry. After three years he left t4ie university with- 
out a degree, and pursued his studies for a time at Wilton, under 
the patronage and encouragement of the Countess of Pembroke, 
the famous sister of Sir Philip Sidney. Afterward he became 
tutor to Lady Anne Clifford, and still later enjoyed the patronage 
of the Earl of Devonshire and that of the Countess of Bedford. 
He shared also with Shakespeare the patronage of the Earl of 
Southampton. At the death of Spenser, in 1599, Daniel became 
what Campbell calls "voluntary laureate" to Queen Elizabeth. 
On the accession of James, in 1603, Daniel welcomed him in a 
congratulatory poem, and became " Gentleman Extraordinary" to 
that monarch and Master of the Bevels. During the reign of Anne 
he was made one of the Grooms of the Privy Chamber. He died in 
October, 1619, and was buried at Beckington, where Lady Anne 
Clifford, then Countess Dowager of Dorset, Pembroke and Mont- 
gomery, afterward erected a monument to his memory. 

Daniel is said to have enjoyed the friendship of Shakespeare, 
Marlowe, and Chapman. His character, like his language, was 
more refined than that of most of his contemporaries. Lowell 
pronounces him "in all respects a man of finer mold," and adds : 
• ' Writing two hundred and fifty years ago, he stands in no need 
of a glossary. . . I think his ' Musophilus ' the finest poem of 
its kind in the language." The title " the well-languaged Daniel," 

20 



DANIEL. 21 

given hiin by Browne, is sustained by an examination of bis works. 
Tbese are sufficient to fill two respectable volumes. Tbe most 
important are " A History of the Civil Wars between York and 
Lancaster" (a poem in eight books, first published in 1604), 
" Musophilus " (a poem of about one thousand alternately-rhym- 
ing lines containing a defense of learning), "The Complaint of 
Rosamond," and " The Defense of Rhyme." To these must be 
addsd a history of England; two dramas, entitled, respectively, 
"Philotas" and "Cleopatra;" and numerous sonnets, masques, 
etc. 

Although most of our text-books classify Daniel simply as 
one of a large group of second or third rate poets belonging 
to the Elizabethan era, the best recent criticism seems to agree 
with Saintsbury when he says: "There are few poets, not 
of the first class, to whose merits a stronger consensus of 
weighty opinion can be produced than that which attests the 
value of Samuel Daniel's work." The qualities of his style, 
already partially noted, may be summarized thus : — (1) Dig- 
nified moral reflection ; (2) exquisite grace of imagery and epithet; 
(3) purity of diction — freedom from archaisms ; (4) smooth, equable 
verse ; (5) tameness. Daniel has been generally criticised for the 
lack of boldness and force in his poetry. The natural diffidence of 
his nature and the enervating influences of court favor seem to 
have clipped wings that might otherwise have soared to greater 
heights. To quote Lowell again : " His verse does not snatch 
you away from ordinary associations and hurry you along with it, 
as is the wont of the higher kinds of poetry, but leaves you, as it 
were, upon the bank, watching the peaceful current and lulled by 
its somewhat monotonous murmur. . . It is very fine English, but 
it is the English of diplomacy somehow; and is never downright 
this or that, but always has the honor to be, with sentiments of 
the highest consideration." 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 



Musophilus : 

CONTAINING 

A Defense of Learning. 

(To Mr. Fulke Greville.) 

I do not here upon this hum'rous stage 

Bring my transformed verse appareled 

With other's passions, or with others' rage ; 

With loves, with wounds, with factions furnished : 

But here present thee, only modeled 5 

In this poor frame, the form of mine own heart : 
Where, to revive myself, my muse is led 
With motions of her own, t' act her own part, 
Striving to make her own contemned art 
As fair V herself as possibly she can ; 10 

Lest, seeming of no force, of no desert, 
She might repent the course that she began ; 

And, with these times of dissolution, fall 
From goodness, virtue, glory, fame, and all. 

Philocosmus. Fond man, Musophilus, that thus dost 
spend 15 

In an ungainful art thy dearest days, 



15. Musophilus means a lover of the muses. 
15. Philocosmus means a lover of the world. 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 23 

Tiring thy wits, and toiling to no end, 

But to attain that idle smoke of praise ! 

Now when this busy world cannot attend 

Th' untimely music of neglected lays ; 

Other delights than these, other desires, 5 

This wiser profit-seeking age requires. 

Musophilus. Friend Philocosmus, I confess indeed 
I love this sacred art thou sett'st so light ; 
And though it never stand my life in stead, 
It is enough it gives myself delight, 10 

The whilst my unafflicted mind doth feed 
On no unholy thoughts for benefit. 

Be it, that my unseasonable song 
Come out of time, that fault is in the time ; 
And I must not do virtue so much wrong, 15 

As love her aught the worse for others' crime : 
And yet I find some blessed spir'ts among 
That cherish me, and like and grace my rhyme. 

Again, that I do more in soul esteem, 
Than all the gain of dust the world doth crave : 20 
And if I may attain but to redeem 
My name from dissolution and the grave ; 
I shall have done enough ; and better deem 
T' have lived to be, than to have died to have. 

Short-breath'd mortality would yet extend 25 

That span of life so far forth as it may, 
And rob her fate ; seek to beguile her end 
Of some few ling'ring days of after-stay ; 
That all this little all might not descend 
Into the dark an universal prey ; 30 

And give our labors yet this poor delight, 
That when our days do end, they are not done ; 
And though we die, we shall not perish quite, 
But live two lives where others have but one. 

Philocosmus. Silly desires of self-abusing man, 35 
Striving to gain th' inheritance of air. 



24 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

That having done the uttermost he can, 
Leaves yet perhaps but beggary t' his heir : 
All that great purchase of the breath he wan, 
Feeds not his race, or makes his house more fair. 

And what art thou the better, thus to leave 5 

A multitude of words to small effect ; 
Which other times may scorn, and so deceive 
Thy promis'd name of what thou dost expect ? 
Besides some vip'rous critic may bereave 
Th' opinion of thy worth for some defect; 10 

And get more reputation of his wit, 
By but controlling of some word or sense, 
Than thou shalt honor for contriving it 
With all thy travel, care, and diligence ; 
B'ing learning now enough to contradict, 15 

And censure others with bold insolence. 

Besides, so many so confus'dly sing, 
Whose diverse discords have the music marr'd, 
And in contempt that mystery doth bring, 
That he must sing aloud that will be heard. 20 

And the received opinion of the thing, 
For some unhallow'd string that vilely jarr'd, 

Hath so unseason'd now the ears of men, 
That who doth touch the tenor of that vein, 
Is held but vain ; and his unreckon'd pen 25 

The title but of levity doth gain. 
A poor light gain, to recompense their toil, 
That thought to get eternity the while ! 
And therefore leave the left and out-worn course 
Of unregarded ways, and labor how 80 

To fit the times with what is most in force ; 
Be new with men's affections that are new : 
Strive not to run an idle counter-course, 
Out from the scent of humors men allow. 

For not discreetly to compose our parts 35 

3. Wan, won. 15. B'ing, bringing. 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 25 

Unto the frame of men (which we must be) 

Is to put off ourselves, and make our arts 

Rebels to nature and society, 

Whereby we come to bury our deserts 

In th' obscure grave of singularity. 5 

Musopliiliis. Do not profane the work of doing well, 
Seduced man, that can'st not look so high 
From out that mist of earth, as thou can'st tell 
The ways of right which virtue doth descry ; 
That overlooks the base contemptibly, 10 

And low laid follies of mortality. 

Nor mete out truth and right deserving praise 
By that wrong measure of confusion, 
The vulgar foot, that never takes his ways 
By reason, but by invitation ; 15 

Rolling on with the rest, and never weighs 
The course which he should go, but what is gone. 
Well were it with mankind, if what the most 
Did like were best : but ignorance will live 
By others square, as by example lost. 20 

And man to man must th' hand of error give, 
That none can fall alone at their own cost ; 
And all because men judge not, but believe. 
For what poor bounds have they, whom but th 1 earth 

bounds ? 
What is their end whereto their care attains ; 25 

When the thing got relieves not, but confounds ; 
Having but travail to succeed their pains ? 
What joy hath he of living, that propounds 
Affliction but his end, and grief his gains ? 

Gath'ring, encroaching, wresting, joining to, 30 

Destroying, building, decking, furnishing, 
Repairing, alt'r.ing, and so much ado, 
To his soul's toil, and body's travailing : 
And all this doth he, little knowing who 
Fortune ordains to have th' inheriting. 35 



26 SELECTIONS FEOM DANIEL. 

And his fair house rais'd high in envy's eye, 
Whose pillars reared (perhaps) on blood and wrong, 
The spoils and pillage of iniquity, 
Who can assure it to continue long ? 
If rage spar'd not the walls of piety, 5 

Shall the profanest piles of sin keep strong ? 

How many proud, aspiring palaces 
Have we known made the prey of wrath and pride ; 
Level'd with fch' earth, left to forgetfulness ; 
Whilst titlers their pretended rights decide, 10 

Or civil tumults, or an orderless 
Order ; pretending change of some strong side ? 

Then where is that proud title of thy name, 
Written in ice of melting vanity ? 
Where is thine heir left to possess the fame ? 15 

Perhaps not so well as in beggary. 
Something may rise, to be beyond the shame 
Of vile and unregarded poverty. 

Which I must confess ; although I often strive 
To clothe in the best habit of my skill, 20 

In all the fairest colors I can give. 
Yet for all that methinks she looks but ill ; 
I cannot brook that face, which (dead alive) 
Shows a quick body, but a buried will. 

Yet oft we see the bars of this restraint 25 

Holds goodness in, which loose wealth would let fly ; 
And fruitless riches, barren er than want, 
Brings forth small worth from idle liberty : 
Which when disorders shall again make scant, 
It must refetch her state from poverty. 30 

But yet in all this interchange of all, 
Virtue, we see, with her fair grace stands fast : 
For what high races hath there come to fall 
With low disgrace, quite vanished and past, 
Since Chaucer liv'd ; who yet lives, and yet shall, 35 
Though (which I grieve to say) but in his last. 

Yet what a time hath he wrested from time, 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 27 

And won upon the mighty waste of days, 

Unto th' immortal honor of our clime, 

That by his means came first adorned with bays ? 

Unto the sacred relics of whose time, 

We yet are bound in zeal to offer praise. 5 

And could our lines, begotten in this age, 
Obtain but such a blessed hand of years, 
And 'scape the fury of that threatening rage, 
Which in confused clouds ghastly appears ; 
Who would not strain his travails to engage, 10 

When such true glory should succeed his cares ? 

But whereas he came planted in the spring, 
And had the sum before him of respect ; 
We, set in th' autumn, in the withering 
And sullen season of a cold defect, 15 

Must taste those four distastes the times do bring 
Upon the fullness of a cloy'd neglect. 

Although the stronger constitutions shall 
Wear out th' infection of distemper'd days, 
And come with glory to outlive this fall, 20 

Eecov'ring of another springing of praise ; 
Cleared from th' oppressing humors wherewithal 
The idle multitude surcharge their lays. 
When as (perhaps) the words thou scornest now 
May live, the speaking picture of the mind ; 25 

The extract of the soul, that labor'd how 
To leave the image of herself behind ; 
Wherein posterity, that love to know,' 
The just proportion of our spir'ts may find. 

For these lines are the veins, the arteries, 30 

And undecaying life-strings of those hearts, 
That still shall pant, and still shall exercise 
The motion, spir't and nature both imparts, 
And shall with those alive so sympathize, 
As nourish'd with their pow'rs, enjoy their parts. 35 

blessed letters ! that combine in one 
All ages past, and make one live with all. 



28 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

By you we do confer with who are gone, 
And the dead-living unto council call : 
By you th' unborn shall have communion 
Of what we feel, and what doth us befall. 

Soul of the world, knowledge, without thee, 5 

What hath the earth that truly glorious is ? 
Why should our pride make such a stir to be, 
To be forgot ? What good is like to this, 
To do worthy the writing, and to write 
Worthy the reading, and the world's delight ? 10 

And let th' unnatural and wayward race, 
Born of one womb with us, but to our shame ; 
(That never read t' observe, but to disgrace) 
Kaise all the tempest of their pow'r, to blame ; 
That puff of folly never can deface 15 

The work a happy genius took to frame. 

Yet why should civil learning seek to wound, 
And mangle her own members with despite ? 
Prodigious wits ! that study to confound 
The life of wit, to seem to know aright ; 20 

As if themselves had fortunately found 
Some stand from off the earth beyond our sight ; 
Whence overlooking all as from above, 
Their grace is not to work, but to reprove : 

But how came they plac'd in so high degree, 25 

Above the reach and compass of the rest ? 
Who hath admitted them only to be 
Free denizens of skill, to judge the best ? 
From whom the world as yet could never see 
The warrant of their wit soundly express'd. 30 

T' acquaint our times with that perfection 
Of high conceit, which only they possess ; 
That we might have things exquisitely done, 
Measur'd with all their strict observances 
Such would (I know) scorn a translation 35 

Or bring but others' labors to the press ; 
Yet oft these monster-breeding mountains will 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 29 

Bring forth small mice of great expected skill. 

Presumption, ever fullest of defects, 

Fails in the doing to perform her part ; 

And I have known proud works, and poor effects, 

Of such indeed as do condemn this art : 5 

But let them rest ; it ever hath been known, 

They others' virtues scorn that doubt their own. 

And for the divers disagreeing chords 
Of inter-jangling ignorance, that fill 
The dainty ears, and leave no room for words, 10 

The worthier minds neglect, or pardon will, 
Knowing the best he hath, he frankly 'fords, 
And scorns to be a niggard of his skill. 

And that the rather since this short-lived race 
Being fatally the sons but of one day, 15 

That now with all their power ply 't apace 
To hold out with the greatest might they may, 
Against confusion that hath all in chase, 
To make of all an universal prey. 

For now great nature hath laid down at last 20 

That mighty birth wherewith so long she went, 
And over- went the times of ages past, 
Here to lie in upon our soft content ; 
"Where fruitful she hath multiplied so fast, 
That all she hath on these times seem'd t' have spent. 25 
All that which might have many ages grac'd, 
Is born in one, to make one cloy'd with all ; 
Where plenty hath impress'd a deep distaste 
Of best and worst, and all in general ; 
That goodness seems goodness to have defac'd, 30 

And virtue hath to virtue giv'n the fall. 

For emulation, that proud curse of wit, 
Scorning to stay below, or come behind, 
Labors upon that narrow top to sit 
Of sole perfection in the highest kind. 35 

Envy and wonder looking after it, 
Thrust likewise on the self -same bliss to find : 



30 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

And so long striving till they can no more, 
Do stuff the place, or others 1 hopes shut out; 
Who doubting to o'ertake those gone before, 
Give up their care, and cast no more about ; 
And so in scorn leave all as sore-possess'd, 5 

And will be none, where they may not be best. 

Ev'n like some empty creek, that long hath lain 
Left or neglected of the river by, 
Whose searching sides pleas'd with a wand'ring vein, 
Finding some little way that close did lie, 10 

Steal in at first ; then other streams again 
Second the first, then more than all supply ; 
Till all the mighty main hath born at last 
The glory of his chief est pow'r that way, 
Plying this new-found pleasant room so fast, 15 

Till all be full, and all be at a stay ; 
And then about, and back again doth cast, 
Leaving that full to fall another way : 

So fares this hum'rous world that evermore 
Wrapp'd with the current of a present course, 20 

Runs into that which lay contemned before ; 
Then, glutted, leaves the same, and falls t' a worse. 
Now zeal holds all, no life but to adore ; 
Then cold in spir't, and faith is of no force. 
Strait all that holy was unhallow'd lies, 25 

The scatter'd carcasses of ruin'd vows ; 
Then truth is false, and now hath blindness eyes ; 
Then zeal trusts all, now scarcely what it knows : 
That evermore to foolish or to wise, 
It fatal is to be seduc'd with shows, 30 

Sacred religion ! mother of form and fear ! 
How gorgeously sometimes dost thou sit deck'd ? 
What pompous vestures do we make thee wear, 
What stately piles we prodigal erect ? 
How sweet perfum'd thou art ; how shining clear ? 35 
How solemnly observed; with what respect ? 
Another time all plain, all quite threadbare ; 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 31 

Thou must have all within, and nought without ; 

Sit poorly without light, disrob'd : no care 

Of outward grace, t' amuse the poor devout ; 

Pow'rless, unfollow'd : scarcely men can spare 

The necessary rites to set thee out. 5 

Either truth, goodness, virtue are not still 

The self-same which they are, and always one, 

But alter to the project of our will ; 

Or we our actions make them wait upon, 

Putting them in the liv'ry of our skill, 10 

And cast them off again when we have done. 

You, mighty lords that with respected grace 
Do at the stern of fair example stand, 
And all the body of this populace 
Guide with the turning of your hand ; 15 

Keep a right course ; bear up from all disgrace; 
Observe the point of glory to our land : 

Hold up disgraced knowledge from the ground ; 
Keep virtue in request ; give worth her due : 
Let not neglect with barb'rous means confound 20 

So fair a good, to bring in night anew : 
Be not, O be not accessary found 
Unto her death, that must give life to you. 

Where will you have your virtuous name safe laid, 
In gorgeous tombs, in sacred cells secure ? 25 

Do you not see those prostrate heaps betray'd 
Your father's bones, and could not keep them sure ? 
And will you trust deceitful stones fair laid 
And think they will be to your honor truer ? 

No, no ; unsparing time will proudly send 30 

A warrant unto wrath, that with one frown 
Will all these mock'ries of vain glory rend, 
And make them (as before) ungrac'd, unknown ; 
Poor idle honors, that can ill defend 
Your memories, that cannot keep their own. 35 

And whereto serve that wondrous trophy now 
That on the goodly plain near Walton stands ? 



32 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

That huge dumb heap, that cannot tell us how, 
Nor what, nor whence it is ; nor with whose hands, 
Nor for whose glory — it was set to show, 
How much our pride mocks that of other lands. 

Whereon, when as the gazing passenger 5 

Had greedy look'd with admiration ; 
And fain would know his birth, and what he were : 
How there erected ; and how long agone : 
Inquires and asks his fellow-traveler 
What he had heard, and his opinion : 10 

And he knows nothing. Then he turns again, 
And looks and sighs ; and then admires afresh, 
And in himself with sorrow doth complain 
The misery of dark forgetfulness ; 
Angry with time that nothing should remain, 15 

Our greatest wonders wonder to express. 
Then ignorance, with fabulous discourse, 
Bobbing fair art and cunning of their right, 
Tells how those stones were by the devil's force 
From Afric brought to Ireland in a night ; 20 

And thence to Britanny, by magic course, 
From giant's hands redeem'd by Merlin's flight. 
And then near Ambri placed, in memory 
Of all those noble Britons murdered there, 
By Hengist and his Saxon treachery, 25 

Coming to parley in peace at unaware. 
With this old legend then credulity 
Holds her content, and closes up her care. 

But is antiquity so great a liar ? 
Or do her younger sons her age abuse ; 30 

See'ng after-comers still so apt t' admire 
The grave authority that she doth use 
That rev'rence and respect dare not require 
Proof of her deeds, or once her words refuse ? 

Yet wrong they did us, to presume so far 35 

Upon our easy credit and delight ; 
For once found false, they straight became to mar 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 33 

Our faith, and their own reputation quite ; 

That now her truths hardly believed are ; 

And though she avouch the right, she scarce hath right. 

And as for thee, thou huge and mighty frame 

That stands corrupted so with time's despite, 5 

And giv'st false evidence against their fame 

That set thee there to testify their right ; 

And art become a traitor to their name, 

That trusted thee with all the best they might ; 

Thou shalt stand still belied and slandered, 10 

The only gazing stock of ignorance, 

And by thy guile the wise admonished, 

Shall never more desire such hopes t' advance, 

Nor trust their living glory with the dead 

That cannot speak, but leave their fame to chance. 15 

ConsidTing in how small a room do lie, 

And yet lie safe (as fresh as if alive) 

All those great worthies of antiquity, 

"Which long fore-hVd thee, and shall long survive ; 

Who stronger tombs found for eternity, 20 

Than could the powers of all the earth contrive. 

Where they remain these trifles to upbraid, 
Out of the reach of spoil, and way of rage ; 
Though time with all his pow'r of years hath laid 
Long batt'ry, back'd with undermining age ; 25 

Yet they make head only with their own aid, 
And war with his all-conqu'ring forces wage ; 
Pleading the heav'n's prescription to be free, 
And t' have a grant t' endure as long as he. 

PMlocosmus. Behold how ev'ry man, drawn with de- 
light 30 
Of what he does, flatters him in his way ; 
Striving to make his course seem only right, 
Doth his own rest, and his own thoughts betray : 
Imagination bringing bravely dight 
Her pleasing images in best array, 35 

With flatt'ring glasses that must show him fair, 



34 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

And others foul ; his skill and wit the best, 

Others seduc'd, deceiv'd and wrong in their ; 

His knowledge right, all ignorance the rest ; 

Not seeing how these minions in the air 

Present a face of things falsely express'd, 5 

And that the glimnTring of these errors shown, 

Are bnt a light to let him see his own. 

Alas, poor fame ! in what a narrow room, 
As an incaged parrot, art thou pent 
Here amongst us ; where ev'n as good be dumb 10 

As speak, and to be heard with no attent ? 
How can you promise of the time to come, 
"When as the present are so negligent ? 

Is this the walk of all your wide renown ! 
This little point, this scarce discerned isle ! 15 

Thrust from the world, with whom our speech, unknown, 
Made never any traffic of our style. 
And in this all, where all this care is shown 
T' enchant your fame to last so long a while. 
And for that happier tongues have won so much, 20 
Think you to make your barb'rous language such ? 

Poor narrow limits for so mighty pains, 
That cannot promise any foreign vent ! 
And yet if here, too, all your wondrous veins 
Were generally known, it might content. 25 

But lo ! how many reads not, or disdains 
The labor of the chief and excellent ? 
How many thousands never heard the name 
Of Sidney, or of Spencer, or their books ? 
And yet brave fellows, and presume of fame ; 30 

And seem to bear down all the world with looks : 
What then shall they expect of meaner frame, 
On whose endeavors few or none scarce looks ? 

Do you not see these pamphlets, libels, rhymes, 
These strange confused tumults of the mind, 35 

30. Presume, confident. 34. Libels, little books. 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 35 

Are grown to be the sickness of these times, 

The great disease inflicted on mankind ? 

Your virtues, by your follies made your crimes, 

Have issue with your indiscretion join'd. 

Schools, arts, professions, all in so great store, 5 

Pass the proportion of the present state ; 

Where being as great a number as before, 

And fewer rooms them to accommodate ; 

It cannot be, but they must throng the more, 

And kick and thrust, and shoulder with debate. 10 

For when the greater wits cannot attain 
Th 1 expected good which they account their right, 
And yet perceive others to reap that gain 
Of far inferior virtues in their fight ; 
They present, with the sharp of envy, strain 15 

To wound them with reproaches and despite ; 
And for these cannot have as well as they, 
They scorn their faith should deign to look that way. 
Hence discontented sects and schisms arise ; 
Hence inter wounding controversies spring, 20 

That feed the simple, and offend the wise, 
Who know the consequence of caviling 
Disgrace, that these to others do devise : 
Contempt and scorn on all in th 1 end doth bring, 
Like scolding wives, reck'ning each other's fault, 25 
Make standers-by imagine both are naught. 

For when to these rare dainties time admits 
All comers, all complexions, all that will ; 
Where none should be let in but choicest wits, 
Whose mild discretion could comport with skill : 30 
For when the place their humor neither fits, 
Nor they the place ; who can expect but ill ? 
For being unapt for what they took in hand, 
And for aught else whereto they shall b' address'd, 
They ev'n become th' incumbrance of the land, 35 

15. Present, at once. 



36 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

As out of rank, disord'ring all the rest : 
This grace Of theirs to seem to understand, 
Mars all their grace, to do without their rest. 

Men find that action is another thing, 
Than what they in discoursing papers read : f> 

The world's affairs require in managing 
More arts than those wherein you clerks proceed ; 
Whilst tim'rous knowledge stands considering, 
Audacious ignorance hath done the deed. 
For who knows most, the more he knows to doubt ; 10 
The least discourse is commonly most stout. 
This sweet-enchanting knowledge turns you clean 
Out from the fields of natural delight, 
And makes you hide, unwilling to be seen 
In th' open concourse of a public sight : 15 

This skill wherewith you have so cunning been, 
Unsinews all your pow'rs, unmans you quite. 

Public soci'ty, and commerce of men, 
Kequire another grace, another port : 
This eloquence, these rhymes, these phrases then 20 
Begot in shades, do serve us in no sort ; 
The immaterial swelling of your pen, 
Touch not the spir't that action doth import. 

A manly style fitted to manly ears, 
Best 'grees with wit ; not that which goes so gay, 25 
And commonly the gaudy liv'ry wears 
Of nice corruptions, which the times do sway ; 
And waits on th' humor of his pulse, that bears 
His passions set to such a pleasing key. 
Such dainties serve only for stomachs weak ; 30 

For men do foulest, when they finest speak. 
Yet do I not dislike, that in some wise 
Be sung the great heroical deserts 
Of brave renowned spir'ts ; whose exercise 
Of worthy deeds may call up others' hearts, 35 

And serve a model for posterities, 
To fashion them fit for like glorious parts ; 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 



37 



But so that all our spir'ts may tend hereto, 
To make it not our grace to say, but do. 

Musophilus. Much thou hast said, and willingly I hear, 
As one that am not so possessed with love 
Of what I do ; but that I rather bear 5 

An ear to learn, than a tongue to disprove : 
I know men must, as carried in their sphere, 
According to their proper motions move. 
And that course likes them best, which they are on ; 
Yet truth hath certain bounds, but falsehood none. 10 

I do confess our limits are but small, 
Compar'd with all the whole vast earth beside ; 
All which again rated to that Great All, 
Is likewise as a point, scarcely descried : 
So that in these respects we may this call 15 

A point but of a point, where we abide. 

But if we shall descend from that high stand 
Of overlooking contemplation, 
And cast our thoughts but to, and not beyond 
This spacious circuit which we tread upon ; 20 

We then may estimate our mighty land 
A wwld within a world, standing alone. 

Where, if our fame confin'd cannot get out, 
What shall we imagine it is pen'd, 
That hath so great a world to walk about ; . 25 

Whose bounds with her reports have both one end ? 
Why shall we not rather esteem her stout, 
That farther than her own scorn to extend ? 

Where being so large a room both to do well, 
And eke to hear th' applause of things well done, 30 
That farther if men shall our virtues tell, 
We have more mouths, but not more merit won ; 
It doth not greater make that which is laud'ble, 
The flame is bigger blown, the fire all one. 

And for the few T that only lend their ear, 35 



24. What, why. 



38 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

That few is all the world ; which with a few 

Do ever live and move, and work, and stir. 

This is the heart doth feel, and only know 

The rest of all that only bodies bear, 

Roll up and down, and fill but up the row. 5 

And serves as others' members, not their own, 
The instruments of those that do direct. 
Then what disgrace is this, not to be known 
To those know not to give themselves respect ? 
And though they swell with pomp of folly blown, 10 
They live ungrac'd, and die but in neglect. 

And for my part, if only one allow 
The care my lab'ring spirits take in this ; 
He is to me a the'tre large enow, 

And his applause only sufficient is : 15 

All my respect is bent but to his brow ; 
That is my All, and all I am is his. 

And if some worthy spir'ts be pleased too, 
It shall more comfort breed, but not more will. 
But what if none ? it cannot yet undo 20 

The love I bear into this holy skill. 
This is the thing that I was born to do : 
This is my scene ; this part must I fulfill. 

Let those that know not breath esteem of wind, 
And set t' a vulgar air their servile song ; 25 

Rating their goodness by the praise they find, 
Making their worth on others' fits belong ; 
As virtue were the hireling of the mind, 
And could not live if fame had ne'er a tongue : 

Hath that all-knowing pow'r, that holds within 30 
The goodly prospective of all this frame, 
(Where whatsoever is, or what hath been, 
Reflects a certain image of the same) 
No inward pleasures to delight her in, 
But she must gad to seek an alms of fame ? 35 

31. Prospective, view. 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 39 

Must she, like to a wanton courtesan, 
Open her breasts for show, to win her praise ; 
And blaze her fair bright beauty unto man, 
As if she were enamor'd of his ways ; 
And knew not weakness, nor could rightly scan 5 

To what defects his hum'rons breath obeys ? 

She that can tell how proud ambition 
Is but a beggar, and hath nought at all, 
But what is giv'n of mere devotion : 
For which, how much it sweats ! How much its thrall ! 
What toil it takes ! And yet when all is done, 11 

The ends in expectation never fall. 

Shall she join hands with such a servile mate, 
And prostrate her fair body, to commit 
Folly with earth ; and to defile that state 15 

Of clearness, for so gross a benefit ? 
Having reward dwelling within her gate, 
And glory of her own to furnish it. 
Herself a recompense sufficient- 

Unto herself, to give her own content. 20 

Is't not enough that she hath rais'd so high 
Those that be hers ; that they may sit and see 
The earth below them, and this All to lie 
Under their view ? taking the true degree 
Of the just height of swol'n mortality 25 

Right as it is, not as it seems to be. 

And undeceived with the parallax 
Of a mistaking eye of passion, know 
By these mask'd outsides what the inward lacks ; 
Meas'ring man by himself, not by his show : 30 

Wond'ring not at their rich and golden backs, 
That have poor minds, and little else to show. 
Nor taking that for them, which well they see 
Is not of them but rather is their load : 
The lies of fortune, wherewithal men be 35 

Deemed within, when they be all abroad ; 

36. Deemed, judged. 



40 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

Whose ground, whose grass, whose earth have cap and 

knee, 
Which they suppose is on themselves bestow'd ; 

And think (like Lsis 1 ass) all honors are 
Giv'n unto them alone ; the which are done 
Unto the painted idol which they bear, 5 

That only makes them to be gazed on. 
For take away their pack, and show them bare, 
And see what beast this honor rides upon. 
Hath knowledge lent to hers the privy key, 
To let them in unto the highest stage 10 

Of causes, secrets, counsels ; to survey 
The wits of men, their heats, their colds, their rage ; 
That build, destroy, praise, hate, say, and gainsay, 
Believe and unbelieve, all in one age ? 

And shall we trust goodness, as it proceeds 15 

From that unconstant mouth ; which with one breath 
"Will make it bad again, unless it feeds 
The present humor that it favoreth ? 
Shall we esteem, and reckon how it heeds 
Our works, that his own vows unhalloweth ? 20 

Then whereto serves it to have been enlarged 
With this free manumission of the mind, 
If for all that we still continue charg'd 
With those discover'd errors which we find ? 
As if our knowledge only were discharg'd, 25 

Yet we ourselves staid in a servile kind, 
That virtue must be out of countenance, 
If this gross spir't, or that weak shallow brain, 
Or this nice wit, or that distemperance, 
Neglect, distaste, uncomprehend, disdain : 30 

When such sick eyes can never cast a glance, 
But through the colors of their proper stain. 

Though I must needs confess, the small respect 
That these great_s££ming-best of men do give 
(Whose brow begets th 1 inferior sort's neglect) 35 

Might move the weak irresolute to grieve ; 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 41 

» 

But stronger see how justly this defect 
Hath overtook the times wherein we live. 

That learning needs must run the common fate 
Of all things else, thrust on by her own weight, 
Comporting not herself in her estate, 5 

Under this burden of a self-conceit : 
Our own dissentious hands op'ning the gate 
Unto contempt, that on our quarrels wait, 
Discover'd have our inward government ; 
And led in hard opinion to disgrace 10 

The general, for some weak impotent, 
That bear out their disease with a stol'n face ; 
Who (silly fools !) the more wit they have spent, 
The less they show'd, not bett'ring their bad case. 

And see how soon this rolling world can take 15 

Advantage for her dissolution ! 
Fain to get loose from this withholding stake 
Of civil science and discretion ; 
How glad it would run wild, that it might make 
One formless form of one confusion ! 20 

Like tyrant Ottoman's blindfolded state, 
"Which must know nothing more, but to obey : 
For this seeks greedy ignorance t' abate 
Our number, order, living, form, and sway ; 
For this it practices to dissipate 25 

Th 1 unshelter'd troops, till all be made away. 

For since our father's sins pull'd first to ground 
The pale of this dissevered dignity, 
And overthrew that holy rev'rend bound, 
That parted learning and the laity, 30 

And laid all flat in common ; to confound 
The honor and respect of piety : 

It did so much en vile the estimate 
Of th' open'd and invulgard mysteries, 
Which now reduc'd unto the basest rate, 35 

Must wait upon the Norman subtleties ; 
Who being mounted up into their state, 



42 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

Do best with wrangling rudeness sympathize. 

And yet, though now set quite behind the train 
Of vulgar sway (and light of pow'r weigh'd light), 
Yet would this giddy innovation fain 
Down with it lower, to abase it quite : 5 

And those poor remnants that do yet remain 
The spoiled marks of their divided right, 

They wholly would deface, to leave no face 
Of reverend distinction and degree ; 
As if they weigh'd no difference in this case, 10 

Betwixt religion's age and infancy : 
Where th' one must creep, the other stand with grace, 
Lest turn'd t' a child, it overturned be. 
Though to pull back th' onrunning state of things, 
(Gath'ring corruption, as it gathers days) 15 

Unto the form of their first orderings, 
Is the best means that dissolution stays ; 
And to go forward, backward right men brings, 
T' observe the line from whence they took their ways. 
Yet being once gone wide, and the right way 20 

Not level to the times' condition ; 
To alter course may bring men more astray ; 
And leaving what was known, to light on none: 
Since ev'ry change, the rev'rence doth decay, 
Of that which alway should continue one. 25 

For this is that close kept palladium, 
Which once remov'd brings ruin evermore ; 
This stirr'd, makes men fore-settled, to become 
Curious to know what was believed before : 
Whilst faith disputes, that used to be dumb ; 30 

And more men strive to talk, than to adore. 

For never headstrong reformation will 
Kest, till to th' extreme opposite it run, 
And overrun the mean distrusted still ; 
As being too near of kin to that men shun ; 35 

For good and bad, and all must be one ill, 
When once there is another truth begun. 



I 



SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 43 

So hard it is an even hand to bear, 
In tempering with such maladies as these ; 
Lest that our forward passions launch too near, 
And make the cure prove worse than the disease ; 
For with the worst we will not spare the best, 5 

Because it grows with that which doth displease. 
And faults are easier look'd in, than redress'd : 
Men running with such eager violence, 
At the first view of errors fresh in quest ; 
As they, to rid an inconvenience, 19 

Stick not to raise a mischief in the stead, 
Which after mocks their weak improvidence; 

And therefore do not make your own sides bleed, 
To prick at others : you that would amend 
By pulling down, and think you can proceed, 15 

By going back unto the farther end : 
Let stand that little covert left behind, 
Whereon your succors and respects depend ; 

And bring not down the prizes of the mind, 
With under-rating of yourselves so base : 20 

You that the mighties 1 doors do crouching find, 
To sell yourselves to buy a little grace ; 
Or wait whole months to outbid Simony, 
For that which being got, is not your place. 

For if it were, what needed you to buy, 25 

What was your due ? your thirsting shows your shift, 
And little worth, that seeks injuriously 
A worthier from his lawful room to lift. 
We cannot say, that you were then preferr'd ; 
But that your money was, or some worse gift. 30 

O scatt'ring gath'rers ! that without regard 
Of times.to come, will (to be made) undo ; 
As if you were the last of men, prepaid 
To bury in your graves all other too. 
Dare you profane that holy portion, 35 

Which never sacrilegious hand durst do ? 

Did form-establishing devotion, 



44 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

To maintain a respective reverence, 

Extend her bountiful provision 

With such a charitable providence, 

For your deforming hands to dissipate, 

And make God's due your impious expense ? 5 

No marvel then, though th' over-pester'd state 

Want room for goodness ; if our little hold 

Be lessen'd unto such a narrow rate, 

That rev'rence cannot fit ; fit as it should. 

And yet what need we thus for rooms complain ? 10 

That shall not want void rooms, if this course hold ; 

And more than will be fill'd — for who will strain 

To get an empty title, to betray 

Eis hopes ; and travel for an honor vain, 

And gain a port, without support or stay ? 15 

What need hath envy to malign their state, 

That will themselves (so kind !) give it away ? 

This makes indeed our number pass the rate 

Of our provisions ; which, if dealt aright, 

Would yield sufficient room t' accommodate, 20 

More than we have in places requisite. 

The ill-disposing only doth us set 

In disarray, and out of order quite. 

Whilst others gifts then of the mind shall get, 

Under our colors, that which is our dues. 25 

And to our travels, art neither benefit, 

Nor grace, nor honor, nor respect accrues : 

The sickness of the state's soul (learning) then 

The body's great distemp'rature ensues. 

For if that learning's rooms to learned men 30 

Were as their heritage distributed, 
All this disorder'd thrust would cease. For when 
The fit were called ; th' unworthy frustrated : 
These would be 'shamed to seek ; those to b' unsought ; 
And stay'ng their turn, were sure they should be sped. 

Then would our drooping academies, brought 36 

Again in heart, regain that rev'rend hand 



SELECTIONS EROM DANIEL. 45 

Of lost opinion ; and no more be thought 

Th' unnecessary furnish of the land, 

Nor (discouraged with their small esteem) 

Confus'd, irresolute and wav'ring stand : 

Caring not to become profound ; but seem 5 

Contented with a superficial skill, 

Which for a slight reward enough they deem 

When th' one succeeds as well as th' other will : 

See'ng shorter ways lead sooner to their end, 

And others 1 longer travels thrive so ill. 10 

Then would they only labor to extend 
Their now unsearching spir't beyond these bounds 
Of others' pow'rs, wherein they must be penned ; 
As if there were besides no other grounds : 
And set their bold plus ultra far without 15 

The pillars of those axioms age propounds. 
Discov'ring daily more and more about, 
In that immense and boundless ocean 
Of nature's riches, never yet found out, 
Nor fore-clos'd with the wit of any man. 20 

So far beyond the ordinary course,' 
That other nnindustrious ages ran ; 
That these more curious times they might divorce 
From the opinion they are link'd unto, 
Of our disable and unactive force ; 25 

To show true knowledge can both speak and do : 
Arm'd for the sharp which in these days they find, 
With all provisions that belong thereto : 

That their experience may not come behind 
The times' conceit ; but leading in their place, 30 

May make men see the weapons of the mind 
Are states' best strengths, and kingdoms' chiefest grace; 
And rooms of charge, charg'd full with worth and 

praise, 
Makes majesty appear with her full face ; 
Shining with all her beams, with all her rays ; 85 

Unscanted of her parts, unshadowed 



46 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

In any darken'd point : which still bewrays 

The weap'n of pow'r, when powYs unfurnished, 

And hath not all those entire compliments, 

Wherewith the state should for her state be sped. 

And though the fortune of some age consents 5 

Unto a thousand errors grossly wrought, 

Which, flourish'd over with their fair events, 

Have pass'd for current, and good courses thought ; 

The least whereof, in other times, again 

Most dang'rous inconveniences have brought ; 10 

Whilst to the times, not to men's wits, pertain 

The good successes of ill-manag'd deeds ; 

Though th 1 ignorant deceiv'd of colors vain, 

Miss of the causes whence this luck proceeds. 

Foreign defects giving home-faults the way, 15 

Make ev'n that weakness sometimes well succeeds. 

I grant, that some unletter'd practic may 

(Leaving beyond the Alps, faith and respect 

To God and man) with impious cunning sway 

The courses fore-begun with like effect, 20 

And without stop maintain the turning-on, 

And have his errors deemed without defect. 

But when some pow'rful opposition 

Shall, with a sound encount'ring shock, disjoint 

The sore-contrived frame ; and thereupon 25 

Th 1 experience of the present disappoint ; 

And other stirring spir'ts, and other hearts 

Built huge for action, meeting in a point ; 

Shall drive the world to summon all their arts, 

And all too little for so real might, 30 

When no advantages of weaker parts 

Shall bear out shallow counsels from the light ; 

And this sense-op'ning action (which doth hate 

Unmanly craft) shall look to have her right. 

Who then holds up the glory of the state ; 35 

17. Practic, man of affairs. 






SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 47 

(Which letter'd arms, and armed letters won) 

Who shall be fittest to negotiate, 

Contemn'd Justinian, or else Littleton ? 

When it shall not he held wisdom to be 

Privately made, and publicly undone : 5 

But sound designs, that judgment shall decree 

Out -of a true discern of the clear ways 

That lie direct, with safe-going equity ; 

Embroiling not their own, and others' days. 

Extending forth their providence beyond 10 

The circuit of their own particular ; 

That ev'n th' ignorant may understand, 

How that deceit is but a caviller, 

And true unto itself can never stand, 

But still must with her own conclusions war. 15 

******* 

Pow'r above pow'rs ! O heav'nly eloquence ! 
That with the strong rein of commanding words, 
Dost manage, guide, and master th' eminence 
Of men's affections, more than all their swords ! 
Shall we not offer to thy excellence, 20 

The richest treasure that our wit affords ? 
Thou that canst do much more with one poor pen, 
Than all the pow'rs of princes can effect; 
And draw, divert, dispose, and fashion men, 
Better than force or rigor can direct ! 15 

Should we this ornament of glory then, 
As th' immaterial fruits of shades neglect ? 
Or should we careless come behind the rest 
In pow'r of words, that go before in worth ; 
When as our accent's equal to the best, 30 

Is able greater wonders to bring forth ? 
When all that ever hotter spir'ts express'd, 
Comes better'd by the patience of the north. 
And who (in time) knows whither w 7 e may vent 

3. Littleton, a contemporary jurist. 



48 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 

The treasure of our tongue ? To what strange shores, 

This gain of our best glory shall be sent, 

T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores ? 

What worlds in th' yet unformed Occident, 

May come refin'd with th' accents that are ours ? 5 

Or who can tell for what great work in hand 

The greatness of our style is now ordain'd ? 

What pow'rs it shall bring in, what spirts command ? 

What thoughts let out ; what humors keep restraint ? 

What mischief it may pow'rfully withstand ; 10 

And what fair ends may thereby be attain'd ? 

And as for po'sy (mother of this force !) 

That breeds, brings forth, and nourishes this might ; 

Teaching it in a loose, yet mcasur'd course, 

With comely notions how to go upright ; • 15 

And fost'ring it with bountiful discourse, 

Adorns it thus in fashions of delight. 

What should I say ? — Since it is well approv'd 

The speech of heav'n, with whom they have commerce ; 

That only seem out of themselves remov'd, 20 

And do with more than human skills converse : 

Those numbers wherewith heav'n and earth are mov'd, 

Show weakness speaks in prose, but pow'r in verse. 

Wherein thou likewise seemest to allow, 

That th' acts of worthy men should be preserv'd, 25 

As in the holiest tombs we can bestow 

Upon their glory that have well deserv'd ; 

Wherein thou dost no other virtue show, 

Than what most barb'rous countries have observed : 

When all the happiest nations hitherto, 30 

Did with no lesser glory speak, than do. 

Now to what else thy malice shall object, 

For schools, and arts, and their necessity ; 

When from my lord, whose judgment must direct, 

And form and fashion my ability, 35 

I shall have got more strength ; thou shalt expect, 

Out of my better leisure, my reply. 



English Classic Series, 

FOR 

Classes in English Literature, Reading, Grammar, etc. 

EDITED BY EMINENT ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SCHOLARS, 

Each Volume contains a Sketcfi of the Author's Life, Prefatory and 
Explanatory Notes, etc., etc. 



Byron's Prophecy of Dante. 

(Cantos I. and II.) 
Milton's L' Allegro, and II Pen- 

seroso. 
Lord Bacon's Essays, Civil and 

Moral. (Selected.) 
Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. 
Moore's Fire Worshippers. 

(Lalla Rookh. Selected. ) 
Goldsmith's Deserted Village. 
Scott's Marin ion. (Selections 

from Canto VI.) 
Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel. 

(Introduction and Canto I.) 
Burns'sCotter'sSaturdayNight, 

and other Poems. 
Crabbe's The Village. 
Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. 

(Abridgment of Part I.) 
Macaulay's Essay on Bunyan's 

Pilgrim's Progress. 
Macaulay's Armada, and other 

Poems. 
Shakespeare's Merchant of Ve- 
nice. (Selections from Acts I., 

III., and IV.) 
Goldsmith's Traveller. 
Hogg's Queen's Wake, and Kil- 

meny. 
Coleridge's Ancient Mariner. 
Addison's Sir Roger de Cover- 
ley. 
Gray's Elegy in a Country 

Churchyard. 
Scott's Lady of the Lake. (Canto 

I.) 
Shakespeare's As You Like It, 

etc. (Selections.) 
Shakespeare's King John, and 

Richard II. (Selections.) 
Shakespeare's Henry IV., Hen- 
ry V., Henry VI. (Selections.) 
Shakespeare's Henry VIII. , and 

Julius Caesar. (Selections.) 
Wordsworth's Excursion. (Bk.I.) 
Pope's Essay on Criticism. 
Spenser'sFaerieQueene. (Cantos 

I. and II.) 
Cowper's Task. (Book I.) 
Milton's Comus. 
Tennyson's Enoch Arden, The 

Lotus Eaters, Ulysses, and 

Tithonus. 



31 Irving's Sketch Book. (Selec- 
tions.) 

33 Dickens's Christmas Carol. 
(Condensed.) 

33 Carlyle's Hero as a Prophet. 

34 Macaulay's Warren Hastings. 

(Condensed.) 

35 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wake- 

field. (Condensed.) 

36 Tennyson's The Two Voices, 

and A Dream of Fair Women. 

37 Memory Quotations. 

38 Cavalier Poets. 

39 Dryden's Alexander's Feast, 

and MacFlecknoe. 

40 Keats's The Eve of St. Agnes. 

41 Irving.'s Legend of Sleepy Hol- 

low. 
43 Lamb's Tales from Shake- 
speare. 

43 Le Row's How to Teach Read- 

ing. 

44 Webster's Bunker Hill Ora- 

tions. 

45 The Academy OrthoJipist. A 

Manual of Pronunciation. 

46 Milton's Lycidas, and Hymn 

on the Nativity. 

47 Bryant's Thanatopsis, and other 

Poems. 

48 Ruskin's Modern Painters. 

(Selections.) 

49 The Shakespeare Speaker. 

50 Thackeray's Roundabout Pa- 

pers. 

51 Webster's Oration on Adams 

and Jefferson. 
53 Brown's Rab and his Friends. 

53 Morris's Life and Death of 

Jason. 

54 Burke's Speech on American 

Taxation. 

55 Pope's Rape of the Lock. 

56 Tennyson's Elaine. 

5 7 Tennyson's In Memoriam. 

58 Church's Story of the yEneid. 

59 Church's Story of the Iliad. 

60 Swift's Gulliver's Voyage to 

Lilliput. 

61 Macaulay's Essay on Lord Ba- 

con. (Condensed.) 
63 The Alcestis of Euripides. Eng- 
lish Version by Rev. R. Potter.M.A. 



(Additional numbers on next page.) 



English Classic Series-continued. 



63 The Antigone of Sophocles. 

English Version by Thos. Franck- 
lin, D.D. 

64 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

(Selected Poems.) 

65 Robert Browning. (Selected 

Poems.) 

66 Addison's Spectator. tSelec'ns.) 

67 Scenes from George Eliot's 

Adam Bede. 

68 Matthew Arnold's Culture and 

Anarchy. 

69 DeQuincey's Joan of Arc. 

70 Carlyle's Essay on Burns. 

71 Byron's Childe Harold's Pil- 

grimage. 

72 Poe's Raven, and other Po Q ms. 

73 & 74 Macaulay's lK>rd Clive. 

(Double Number.) 

75 Webster's Reply to Hayne. 

76&77 Macaulay's Lays of An- 
cient Rome. (Double Number.) 

78 American Patriotic Selections: 

Declaration of Independence, 
"Washington's Farewell Ad- 
dress, Lincoln's Gettysburg 
Speech, etc. 

79 & 80 Scott's Lady of the Lake. 

(Condensed.) 

81 & 83 Scott's Marmion. (Con- 
densed.) 

83 & 84 Pope's Essay on Man. 

85 Shelley's Skylark, Adonais, and 

other Poems. 

86 Dickens's Cricket on the 

Hearth. 

87 Spencer's Philosophy of Style. 

88 Lamb's Essays of Elia. 

89 Cowper's Task, Book II. 

90 Wordsworth's Selected Poems. 

91 Tennyson's The Holy Grail, and 

Sir Galahad. 

92 Addison's Cato. 

93 Irving's Westminster Abbey, 

and Christmas Sketches. 

94 & 95 Macaulay's Earl of Chat- 

ham. Second Essay. 

96 English Ballads. 

97 Skelton, Wyatt, and Surrey. 

(Selected Poems.) 

98 Edwin Arnold. (Selected Poems.) 

99 Caxton and Daniel. (Selections.) 

100 Fuller and Hooker. (Selections.) 

101 Marlowe's Jew of Malta. (Con- 

densed.) 

102-103 Macaulay's Essay on Mil- 
ton. (In Preparation.) 

104-105 Macaulay's Essay on Ad- 
dison. (In Preparation.) 

106-107 Macaulay's Essay on Bos- 
well's Johnson. (In Preparation.) 



108-109 Macaulay's Essay on Frei 

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110-111 Milton's Sampson Agoi 

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